My life would be nothing without Him.

All because HE died for me…for us…for YOU.

“For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect.”

1 Peter 1:18-19

Why do we become disenchanted with who we are? Why don’t we ever get ENchanted with who we are? That might be a bold way to start this post, but hey…that’s how I roll (yes..I did just say “that’s how I roll”).

I received a really nice email just a couple days ago. A fellow mom wrote to me that us as stay at home moms, “…find it hard not to look around and compare ourselves with others and get down on ourselves.” Yes…I agree…100% yes.

Then my husband and I were chatting about him starting a blog…he voiced that he didn’t think he had anything to say. Um…that is very very wrong. But honestly, that is how I feel most of the time. I can’t wait to read his first blog post and I know he reads every single one of mine.

Just being honest here…I don’t feel I have much to say…much to give or much to display. I think that is why I go long stretches without blogging, not because I’m busy, but because I don’t feel what I have to say is worth anything to write about.

You have to realize, I am a God-fearing-believing-Bible-toting woman. If there was anyone who shouldn’t struggle about her self worth it should be me. The girl with a good childhood, didn’t (really) have a rebellious streak and has a close relationship with God.

And yet. I. still. do.

and you do too.

My goodness we have so much to say, so much to give and so much to write about. Why is it so hard sometimes? Because of fear. Fear that no one will read…fear that many people will read. Fear that we will get burned or criticized for who we are. Fear that we will be real but others will think we are not.

I want to become disenchanted with a life of self doubt. And become enchanted with a life grounded on God and on what He thinks of me and no one else.

I want Him to remove the film that lays thick on my eyes and skin. The film that tries to protect me from hurt and scars, but only leaves disease behind. The film that was put there last year by individuals who didn’t understand the love of God. The film that I put on myself every day when I say I have nothing to give. I want to be made whole and love what I do and do what I love.

Join me.

I love reading other blogs, specifically ones from fellow moms who love the Lord. I have been so moved by her posts lately. She talks about our words and the intense power they hold. I choose to realize that power and to do something about it. I can choose who speaks into my life, who I surround myself with and who is allowed to influence my kids. I can choose what I say, I have complete control over my tongue and how I use it. I am free to choose…

I am free to not settle, to keep pushing forward to demand that the best possible me surfaces

free to say no when darkness starts to surround me

free to choose…

I have a choice. I choose to speak life, to use my words to lift up others and not tear them down

I choose to cultivate friendships that are grounded in the word of God

I choose to not degrade my husband

I choose to not yell at my children

I know I am not free from trials, but I am 100% free from allowing the trials to make me bitter and ugly

I am free to be beautiful

What are you free to be?

It made me think…what award do I feel I would get? Transported back into the 1st grade, I probably would have gotten the “most shy” or the “longest hair” or something like that :) Now…as I sit, learning life lessons from the Ultimate Teacher….what do I feel I deserve?

Some days I feel I don’t deserve any awards, at least not good ones. Maybe the worst mother award, or the lamest cook or the award for going the longest without washing her hair. Could you imagine? A sweet Kindergarten teacher handing out the “worst listener” award to one of her innocent, gentle spirited students. Unthinkable… Yet I (we) have no problem accepting imaginary awards for terrible things that we do. In reality, I am still that small, shy, super long haired, brown eyed little girl….looking for the attention of a job well done.

In the eyes of my Father I am that little girl…

The award goes to Amy for:

loving her kids so much it hurts

doing the best she can to meet the needs of her husband

nursing her vomity son back to health with super hugs and wet washcloths

being a child of God

being absolutely nothing

being Amy

Because in reality…I don’t deserve any awards. None. Not one. But because of what He did for me a bazillion years ago…I get to reap the benefits of His job well done.

Fill in the blank….the award goes to (state your name) for being (state your name).

Part 2

I had mean’t to get this post out early this morning. But I secretly knew that my plans would not work how I wanted them to…not when I’m supposed to have a deadline and be somewhere on time. Someone stains their brand new Easter church shirt and someone else spills nail polish all over the bathroom floor.

Maybe I should rename this post to….a mother’s guide to humility.

But of course I picked myself up from the bathroom floor and quickly picked out an old but clean shirt for the boy and that was life. There are a lot worse things happening in the world. Perspective Amy…just keep it real.

I have had no agenda for where this little series was all going to go…except for one thing…so keep reading…

I have found something to fill the hole of emptiness in my heart. It hurts though, getting to that point. It’s like shoving the metal pole in the depths of my heart and yanking the yuck and filth out.

I have found life growing on my tiny branches when once before I felt dead inside. It may take some time to see the growth…but have faith! He who has begun a good work in you will be so faithful to complete it! (Philippians 1:6)

My outside matches my inside. I am whole. I am beautiful. I am growing. I am filled.

I am thankful for what Jesus did for me so many years ago. He would do it again if I were the only one on earth who needed Him. But I’m not.

We live in a world full of broken, hurting, confused, dry and wandering people. Or maybe they are just fine. I am not content to live in just fine. I am worth more than just fine. I am worth living with wholeness, healing, understanding. I am worth being quenched and worth being guided.

He wants you to know that you don’t have to feel empty anymore. Why? Because of this…

Once upon a time a mother watched her son die. Not just pass away…she watched him as he was tortured for hours on end. She wept, she wailed, after he died she covered his body and helped place him in a tomb. Two days later he wasn’t in the tomb anymore, and the cloths that she wrapped him in were empty. He was alive and still is. And it wasn’t once upon a time…it is real.

The question is…is He real to you…

We bought a foreclosure, a year ago when the housing market here in CA was still at the bottom. It still is…but in certain areas home prices are starting to rise again. We got a killer deal on a small home with a big backyard…this place is perfect for us. It’s old and falling apart, but my need for granite countertops was thrown out with my pride a long time ago.

With pretty much all foreclosures, the house sat empty for months, we know at least 6 months for sure. 6 months is just enough time for the weeds to grow as tall as our 6 year old and for a beautiful white birch tree to become dry from lack of water, thus allowing disease to spread. When it became sick it wasn’t able to fight it…it was given no attention, no pruning, no water.

That’s all it takes…a lack of water.

I have a very large potted hydrangea. Hydrangeas are beautiful, but they are water suckers. It can’t go more than a couple days without watering before its leaves begin to droop. I planted a new tree just a couple days ago, I’m waiting to see if it survives the transplant…I’m watching the ground carefully…I can’t let it get dry.

Let me break from the metaphor for a moment…isn’t that what we do to ourselves? We feel as if we are in a drought…when actually there is a hose connected to a water spigot just yards away….  What is it about us that can be ok with going dry? We end up thinking that yesterday’s drink of water will get me through the rest of the week, or month or years. I don’t need no stinking water! Then I realize how thirsty I am when drops of His amazing presence falls on me like a light rain and I catch myself crying out for the flood to come.

But before the flood, even before a light drizzle…there are decisions to make.

So now what do we do? A dead and barren thing has been removed…what do we choose to put in its place? No hole can be left empty. It will be filled with something, we can control what goes there…or someone else or something else will. I don’t know about you, but in my life…I don’t want anyone else making those choices for me.

We now laugh about our choice. If you know us, we’re extremely frugal and figured, if we could get a free tree…we would! When the tree was dropped off a couple weeks later, we were in disbelief. It literally looks like a stick, no leaves, a tiny root ball and its hard to imagine that it will grow to one day fill our yard with cool shade.

That is….except for ours. Ours is a 1/2″ thick free stick from the local tree foundation. The beautiful white birch that used to be there, the one that I fell in love with when we bought this home, was unbeknownst to us very dead. After being approached by numerous tree trimming companies, coming to our door and asking if we want them to pull it out, we came to grips that my dream tree needed to be removed.

I instantly fought it, hoping that maybe in a year or so it would come back to life. Maybe we could put some iron in the ground, maybe the fertilizer we put on the grass was making it diseased and we could nurse it back to health. No, I was assured, the tall established beauty with the  tiny green leaves popping up everywhere was in fact….dead. But there was signs of life! What if we chopped it down just to see that it was green and alive inside?! No…the fresh leaves were giving false hope, they were not part of the tree, they were leeches sucking any drops of water from inside the decaying branches.

I relented. Husband got a chainsaw, and some friends, and slowly started chipping at the tree. I couldn’t watch. I knew it was years and years of growth being cut down in just moments. It would take years and years to ever see another tree like that one in my front yard again.

Our good friend the landscaper took one look at the tall but thin birch tree and told us it would take a few hours, if that, to tear the entire tree out, roots and all. But as we dug deeper and deeper, the roots were longer and thicker than anyone had imagined. The dead tree had infiltrated the entire front yard. The root system was complicated and even too much for the chainsaw. It took two full days to tear it out.

When the bulk of the tree was cut away, and all that was left was a stump…we saw the reality of the problem. There was no mistaking how decayed and tortured that tree actually was. The stump was hollow. It had been diseased for a very long time, the sickness focused on the very middle of the tree, weaving itself in and around the life giving roots, destroying the tree from the inside out. There would be no nursing it back to life, no salvaging any part of it, the entire stump, roots and the dirt around it…had to once and for all be torn out.

It wasn’t a pretty sight. The front yard was a mess, my husband was a mess, the ax was like a butter knife and the chainsaw went dull. We had to borrow a huge metal pole from our new neighbors just to get under the stump to maneuver it out.

When it was all done…we took a deep breath and stared. We never would have imagined it would take that many days, or that much sweat or that many saw blades to remove the dead tree. We thought it would be an easy job, and quick fix. The only quick thing about it was that the next day the remnants were swept away by the green waste company. All that was left was sawdust and bark chips.

Our front yard was a barren, hollow mess and we had nothing to fill the hole…

(come back tomorrow for part 2)

“The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.”                John 10:10

When the older kids go away for a night, what it does though is offer Lily and I an opportunity to spend time together. She is my baby still, my princess, but she and I are never alone. She is my third child, she came into this family when it was already very established. She has never known what it is like to be an only child like Abby does, or what it is like to play by herself like Zach does when Abby is at school. She is always entertained, always with her siblings, always watched over.

But tonight…it was just her and I. Just one little body to get in and out of a carseat. Just one tiny little mouth to feed dinner. Just one tiny little bottom to sit on my lap as we read a book before bedtime. I cherish these rare moments that she can have all my attention. It is very true that the more children you have, the less time you have for individual moments with each of them. My children are by no means lacking in time with their Mommy, but normally we are all together, eating, playing, watching…all the time.

How much does He long to get us alone? To not share us with anyone or anything?

The sweet beckoning of a Father who has all the time in the world just to spend with us. I have no earthly ideas of how He does it. He has so many children we cannot count them, but He still has every single second of the day carved out for me and only me for when I choose to give Him my full attention.

I don’t know what it is like to be an only child. In my family I was the middle child for 16 years. Then two more sisters came along and I became the “second oldest” or however you describe the kid who was born after the first born, but before the precious baby, and way before the memorable adoption experience. I never thought I had middle child syndrome, but maybe I do.

I also don’t know what it is like to be an only child to my Heavenly Father. I am always, always thinking that He has better things to do, more kids to take care of, someone else who needs more attention.

But even now as I lay my heart out, I know without a doubt that He longs for me, for you, just like we long to spend alone time with our kids. He longs to hold us, to smell our unwashed hair and help us guide where our lanky arms are supposed to go. Do I hold his waist? Do I hold his neck?

How about we just let Him hold US.

photo by Jeanette

So I gave the pacifier back (I know, bad mommy, no judging!) and she has now decided to walk around the house with not only her pink blanket, but her stuffed Elephant AND her big princess comforter. All deep and important symbols of comfort for her.

Two nights ago she couldn’t go to sleep.

She shares a room with her sister and was put to bed before Abby. Nothing would console her, I held her in my arms as long as I could, telling her that it wasn’t time to watch tv but to fall asleep. I couldn’t deny her sweet, “no mama” when I said it was “nigh nigh time”. But when it came time to place her in her crib, she was very upset…which she never is at bedtime, obviously something was wrong. Abby finally went to bed and Lily went down without another fight. She needed her big sissy in the bed next to her. She needed to hear the soft snores of the little girl she so admires, she could finally sleep knowing that her room wasn’t empty, but that Abby’s bed was full of the sister who loves her so much.

It made me think about our inherent need to be loved, to be comforted. I am guilty of trying to find comfort in areas that I shouldn’t, whether it be food, my kids, taking pictures, there are so many things that I turn to and I know they won’t satisfy like the One who gave me life. I am so thankful that even though I fail, I know what the real Truth is.

That I serve a God who is Comfort.

He is Love.

He’s the numbing orajel to your red sore gums.

He’s the thick presence that fills an empty dark room.

Deuteronomy 31:6 says, “Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the LORD your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.”

I love how self explanatory that is. There is no gray in that verse. I don’t need to fear…He is with me. I don’t need to be insecure…He’s not going anywhere. I don’t need to be afraid…His name means courage.